Speak Easy, Little Italy
by Inari Kasugawa
Summary: 1920's U.S.A. Lovino Vargas is in America trying to start a new life, but he can't leave his old one far behind. His new self-proclaimed friend doesn't know what he's getting himself into... or does he? Alcohol, Mafia, Fights, Lang, Sex. Aku and Me again.
1. Chapter 1

**Speak Easy, Little Italy Chapter 1**

It was his 5th drink of the potent moonshine being served at the speak easy. Jazz music was blurred in the background along with the voices of the wealthy who came down to earth from time to time and the mumblings of various languages of the immigrants who worked in those same houses. All mixed together by the alcohol."Idno wa's so great with a place like this." Lovino voiced slurring his speech.

"After all," he thought aloud, "the hell kinda name is _Liberty Belle_? Fuckin' crappy name... thass what."But when it came down to it, Lovino Vargas was not there for the name, nor was he there for the quality of the moonshine, though it helped. He was there to get smashed and forget the troubles back home. That was until a far too sunny voice decided to try interrupting his melancholy.

"Ciao Little Italy~" Came a cheerful voice as the blond bartender leaned over the counter to get a good look at him, "Don't knock on the name okay~ By the way, mine's Alfred, and I think you've had enough for the night. That's your last glass."'This guy looked pretty down.' From what Alfred had heard from the Sicilian down on the docks, this guy had just stepped off the boat not even a month ago. Alfred couldn't get the feeling, himself being one who could trace his roots to the first settlers."You gotta place yet Little Italy?" He didn't know why he chose to call him that, besides the fact he was short, but it seemed to suit him. Al usually didn't do this, but the guy looked like someone told him his dog died or something.

Lovino glared at the blond man who had just decided to die by stepping between him and his alcohol. "M'names not _Leeettle Italeee_ jackass, it's Romano. And I have not had enough dumbass, as you both can see, I'm still sitting on the stool!" He 'harrumphed' in emphasis, nearly tipping over. "If your government was as much in the crapper as the one back home, you'd be drinkin' too."He thought back to the brother he had left behind, in good hands his inner voice was quick to try and convince him. Yes, his brother would be fine. He just had to work and save up his money. Everything would be fine. "I got a job, anna I know someone who got me a room at tha inn," he slurred, "cheaper 'n' tryin'a rent an apartment in this damn place."

Al laughed and looked around to checked to make sure his brother hadn't come to check up on him again. When his search revealed that Romano was, in fact, so drunk he was seeing double, Alfred decided to get him somewhere he could sleep it off without getting mugged... or watched as the Italian sat there swaying. His speech was slurred and he looked like he was about to fall over any minute. Alfred looked at the clock on the wall and nodded to the band. It was close to that time anyways."Don't insult The Liberty, Little Italy," he said softly, "She ain't a tavern. Now Finish your glass, I'm closing' up shop at the end of the song. And then I'm taking you to bed. There's no way you are going to get to your room like this."Not to mention that if he was caught... That would officially alert the authorities to the fact there was illegal alcohol being sold around here. And Alfred couldn't let himself be caught because of a drunk Italian immigrant straight off the boat.

"Heard there's been trouble out on the streets with the Mafia running about."

"Fuggin deg... degenter... degenerates, alla um! They fuck up everything at home, then this Mussawahtevea guy comes along and boots em, then they comm'er and make trouble... Shit!"

"And the fuck do ya' mean: 'Takin' me to bed?' A guy like you?" The further subtitles of the English language had escaped the inebriated Italian as he fell into the other man."F-fuck... What the hells with this stuff? Damnit, I can walk myself! Humph!"

"Oof!" Alfred hadn't expected that Romano would fall so hard, and he stumbled before he caught himself and the smaller male. Once he had the kid stabilized, he chuckled and shook his head. He had been wanting a new roommate ever since Matt moved out."I could a phrased that better," he said through the soft laughs, "Matt's shacking with this Ukrainian chick so I got a spare bedroom. And I've seen a Russian get sloshed on my moonshine. I'm surprised you're still awake let alone able to hold conversation. Now come on, my flat's up the stairs."Liberty Belle was a two-story building. the business was the first floor, and the living space for Alfred and Matthew was the second. Luckily the second floor had everything two people needed to live comfortably.

"Don...don't you think I make'a habit of this... damnit..."Alfred ushered out the last of his patrons and caught the stumbling Italian. Romano tripped along with the American bar host, completely forgetting everything about 6 seconds later."Damnit... I want some water... and tomatoes..."

"No worries Little Italy~" he said cheerfully, fumbling with his keys to unlock the door. He got it open and supported Romano as they entered."Hold on a tick and I'll get you some~" he gestured for him to stay seated while he went to the kitchen area and got him some water and a ripe tomato. He returned and set the stuff on the coffee table before Romano. He went back into the kitchen and set the stove, heating and pouring himself some stale coffee, adding cream and sugar, before coming back and sitting on the chair across from him."So what's a cool cat like you, doin' in a place like this, Little Italy?" he asked. He thought he had gotten the gist of it, but there was something bothering him. Romano sounded oddly familiar...An idea came to mind, but looking at the inebriated guy in front of him, it seemed too ludicrous.

He took a drink of the water. "It's my whole damn famiglia. My damn grandfather, my brother... god my brother. He's got everything. I'm the one who has to go out and make the honest money..." Romano lifted the tomato to his mouth and bit into it like an apple.

"Oh really?" Alfred asked, a bit of confusion and a hint of worry creeping into his thoughts. _'Honest money?'_ At least he could sympathize with him about the brother bit. God knew he loved Matthew, but in everyone's eyes, the guy could do no wrong.

"He's the 'perfect' kid, eh?" He twitched, Matt would be so proud, and shook his head. "Sounds tough Italy," he said, shortening it down a bit. He sighed and finished off his old coffee with a grimace. He yawned suddenly, and looked at the clock. "Oh great... Got to be up in about six hours. You know anythin' about appraising? I could use a hand in the shop since Matt left. We ran a pawn shop, but like I said... he's with his girl."

"Damnit, I told you my name is Romano..."He sulked, taking an angry bite of his tomato."And I know plenty about... _appraising_." He said it disdainfully around a mouthful of tomato.

"Waa~ But Italy is easier to remember~" Alfred said cheerfully. The cheer didn't fade as he stretched and yawned, rubbing his face tiredly. He frowned, "Good lord I'm tired. I haven't had time to sleep in forever. I'm either distilling, appraising or bar tending. I barely have any time to eat anymore""How bout this Italy? I hire you to help me with my shop and you get a place to crash and all the food you want and some cash on the side."

Romano mumbled a whatever as he finished eating.

"Cool~" Alfred grinned and popped his back as he stood. It was good to find a second set of hands working with him. It was nice to have someone in the flat guy was annoying. Loud, and overly optimistic. Where the hell did everyone in this damn country get the will for it?"Hey, your place, it's legit, right?""Eh... The part you're working in is~" Alfred said with a grin, "The Speak-easy's all mine. I don't want you to get in trouble Little Italy""Y'see there's a prohibition on alcohol. So My 'restaurant' is kinda not supposed to be there. But As long as I don't get in trouble, the guys aren't gonna say anything. In fact, I got a couple a guys on the force that come in here when they are off duty. See if you can spot them next time." He winked and stood up, "Whelp, I'm off to bed. You want me to show you to bed?"

"Yeah, that would help. Not that I need it, but since you offered..." He was feeling much more sober now, and a room... He looked over again at the blonde fellow.

"Alright~" Alfred said, beaming. He clapped a hand on the other man's shoulder "Follow me~""You know you're wired as hell, just bringing some random immigrant into your home. But thanks, this beats yard work and a smelly ass inn."

"I know," he said cheerfully as he walked, "But you seem like a nice guy~ And besides, you were so drunk you could hardly stand! What self-respecting Hero would leave a kid to head home in the dark like that?"He leaned in close, "And besides, there's this Creole Frenchie that lurks around going after inebriated customers. Not fun." He stood straight and opened the door to Matthew's old room. "Well~ here you go~ sleep tight Little Italy~"

"Fuckin' French..." He muttered as they reached the door. The room looked like something he knew. Like someone had lived in it... and loved it. He thought about his brother's room, how every detail looked like this. Soft. "I--"He was _not_ tearing up.

"D-damnit!" He hastily wiped his eyes and walked into the room, shutting the door before the other had a chance to say anything should he have caught the gesture. Alfred turned to say something, but he was struck speechless by tears in Romano's eyes. He didn't have time to think of anything as the man slammed the door shut. He sighed and left.

It was a restless night for Romano. He tossed and turned in the bed that had been provided. First the pillows were too soft. The quilt was too warm. The stars were too bright..."Fuck..."His mind raced with everything that had happened. His grandfather picking his brother over him to take control of the "family business" when he was gone, his brother being taken from the home they shared "because it would make him strong". The body guards that followed his brother everywhere. He had to force himself to believe that this was the better way. His being sent to America as an "envoy"... he knew it was just a fancy way of getting him out of the way. He was saving money to get himself home as soon as possible, to get his brother out before it really was too late. Mussolini had his eye on the South of Italy, where operations centered... _'Old man, you had sure as hell better take care of Feliciano...'_

***********

"Willow bark, willow bark," Alfred muttered as he searched his cabinets that morning. Al had a Native Grandfather who taught him the art of herbal remedies. In fact, he was sure he had some- "Oh~ Even better! Birch!"He quickly set to work making the headache medicine and a pot of coffee. Ah~ Coffee was truly the elixir of life to the American. Once it was done he picked up the cup and the medicine cup and headed to his new house mate's room."Hey Italy~" He called, keeping his voice at a level where it wouldn't aggravate his head too bad.

Romano's eyes shot open. When had he fallen asleep? _Had_ he fallen asleep? His own night had been plagued by nightmares, guns and blood and screams and fire. His parents... vague shadows in his dreams, gone as soon as his eyes opened. A grandfather in the Mafia that took up his daughters twin boys...He heard Alfred again on the other side of the door. He threw the covers over his head and tried his best to ignore the man. He wasn't ready to be awake...

"Ah... still asleep I guess..." Me muttered loudly to himself. He shrugged and went back to the kitchen, setting the medicine down on the table and setting up a cup for Romano to make one himself. No use letting a cup get cold after all~He began to cook breakfast, pulling sausages, fat slabs of bacon, eggs, and cheese from the icebox and began setting up. He pulled out a skillet and soon the meat was cooking while he scrambled a couple of the eggs and sliced potatoes off the counter. He pulled out another skillet, reaching into the meat pan with a fork and deftly flipped the strips, pouring in some oil and letting it heat while he pulled the loaf from the breadbox and began the smell of a home-cooked meal would wake Little Italy up.

Romano heard he man walk away from the door and he sat up. His stomach grumbled and his head throbbed. One force told him to get up and eat, the other told him to sink back under the blankets and fuck all else. As he stumbled towards the smell of food, the throb of his headache grew more and more towards a homicidal pound. "Fuck... Mm, buon--- good morning."

"Buenos dias Little Italy~" Alfred responded cheerfully as he piled sausages and bacon on the first plate and put it on the table. It was followed by a plate filled with eggs and another with toast. On the table were two empty plates, a slab of butter, and at least a dozen different jams/jellies, "I didn't know what you liked so I just made a little of everything. Dig in~"

Romano mumbled something about him getting it wrong but said nothing aloud. "Eh? I used plain Spanish though..." Alfred muttered, though he trailed off at the end."Ah~ almost forgot~ Drink these for your headache~ First the stuff that looks like mud..." He held out the medicine. And a cup filled with sugar water. It looked like mud, tasted terrible, and having a gag reflex caused difficulties, but it worked like a charm. "After that I got coffee and water. I can nip down and get you some more moonshine, but I doubt you'd want any this early."

Through the throb in his head, Romano only seemed to hear every other word and so, when a cup was offered to him with coffee coloured contents, he threw down, only to come back up gagging and sputtering. "What the fucking hell?!?"He reached for another cup, this one seeming to have water and drank it down. It was sweet and clear and so much better than that crap he had just chugged!"What... what the hell was that shit?!"

"I told you, it's medication for your headache. It's made with birch or willow bark. The taste is one helluva doozie, but it gets the job done. The other is just sugar water to get rid of the taste""From the looks of things you must have been expecting coffee, huh Italy?" he stood and poured a fresh cup for Romano and topped off his own. He came back and plucked down the mug in front of Romano, still holding onto his own."Dig in Little Italy~" he said cheerfully as he piled his plate high with food and began the process of making his took two slices of bread and slathered blackberry jam on them, then added a whole row of bacon, followed by an egg with a slightly runny yolk and a healthy heap of hash browns. He put the second piece on top (jelly down of course) and lifted it up to take a bite. He stifled a moan of pleasure. Pure unadulterated bliss for sure. He swore never to miss making breakfast again~

"You call me 'Little Italy' and think that I speak Spanish? What kind of idiot are you?"Romano sipped his coffee, smelling it first this time to see what it was. The aroma lifted him from a level of aggression. He picked a few pieces of toast and an egg, staring at the display that Alfred was putting on with his own food. "Do you not usually eat or something?"

"I haven't eaten in three days. I been busy," he said defensively, "I had a major appraisal that had to be done for a rare antique from the sixth century. Not something I can do lightly. Of course the guy kept breathing down my neck too. Turned out all my hard work revealed he had a fake. Tch. Amateurs." He rolled his eyes and grinned."And I don't really pay attention to language unless it's French German or Spanish, Little Italy~" he shrugged, "I thought you were using a different pronunciation or something."

"Dumbass." Romano muttered. "Hey, about this appraisal stuff... what exactly is it that I'm going to be doing?"

"Hm?" Alfred looked up from his sandwich and swallowed. He licked his fingertips idly as he thought, "Oh... It's basic stuff really. Determining age, authenticity, condition, and if it needs any critical restorations. We also do pricing and ballpark estimates for the cost of a restoration""I think that's it..." he trailed off, sticking his fingers in his mouth to clean the last of the food off. He pulled them out and inspected them critically before wiping them off on a napkin. He made another sandwich and picked up his plate, "Time to open up shop Italy~! You can take your food with you. I wanna show you our studio~"

With a piece of toast in his mouth and coffee in hand, Romano followed Alfred. The business seemed legit enough, but the fact that it was a pawn shop still made Romano worry.

"It's not top of the line stuff, but my brother and I ge-got along with it pretty well." He took the stairs two and three at a time, sometimes looking like he was about to fall to his doom as he did, and soon went along to the other side of the building. He didn't understand why Romano seemed so worried. "Anyways~" he continued, unlocking the door and entering without ceremony, "We'll also do a little restoration work if it's mild and the customer requests it. Touch up the paint. Smooth over cracks. That sort of thing. But when I do that, you gotta make sure I don't get interrupted. I am usually using expensive and uncommon ingredients for that kind of thing and I hate wasting it."He grimaced. A week's worth of work had been utterly destroyed by an interruption and he had had to start from scratch. Luckily it was only a minor flaw that the customer had caused, but it had nearly been a disaster since the substance he had been using was highly volatile and could have blown half of the building to kingdom come."Let me see..." He glanced around the room. A minor commission had come in last week. He had already done a basic, but something about that one gave him a strange feeling of not having all the pieces. That and his Greek was extremely basic so he couldn't get the full story from her. He had her write it down, but no one he went to knew any more than he grinned and picked it, and all the paperwork that went with it, up and handed the mess to Romano. "Here you go Little Italy~ this vase Miss Helena brought in to have a pricing done on. Here's the papers, proof of ownership and her affidavit~ Good luck~"

'Miss... Helena?!' Romano kept his face blank as he could manage, though he knew he would be unable to hold it. Romano grabbed the papers and asked where he would be working.

"Oh~ Um..." he looked around the room at the various tables covered with a medley of articles and shrugged, "Where ever is fine. Just clear a space and settle in~"

Alfred looked up from the fragile-looking musket rifle he had been spending the past month dismantling and labeling and blinked owlishly, "Yeah. Hmm… Something wrong Italy?"

"It's nothing so don't ask!" Romano stomped over to a cluttered desk and began going through the papers. All of them were forged, he knew. This vase was no simple thing. Common enough looking, but it was old. And stolen.

"Oh~ If I'm not too focused around lunch time tap my shoulder. Also... You're probably gonna have a na- uh... siesta around three-ish right?" He grinned and sipped at his coffee. He finally remembered to turn the sign to OPEN and went back to the gun, "Just remember to come back after you wake up, eh?"The vase was sturdy and well crafted. Miss Helena had a thing for old Greek anything. How did Romano know this? Miss Helena knew his Grandfather. His Grandfather had had him steel the vase. He sat down and tried to make himself look busy.

Alfred grunted, not really paying attention to him. This was in a delicate stage in the process. A lost part could cause a misfire, or even make the barrel peel apart like a banana. He pulled off his glasses and put on a pair of goggles, hunching over the job as he went into his own little world. That of a tinker/restorer. You could send a whole brass band through the room and he wouldn't even flinch. That was how focused he was.

Romano went to work on the vase. He knew which scratches had been there and which hadn't, the ones that he had put there himself. He jumped every time the bell over the door "tang's". He spent most of his time just watching the clock.

*******

**Ahaha, here, finally. It has been sitting on my computer for at least a month. Aku! I finally got to the first one! I edited this on part of my 6 hour flight from Washington D.C. on Saturday… then I slept. It was about an hour or two… in a half of editing until I was happy with it. Christ. There are… mayyyybe three more chapters. Probably more if I can remember what I was doing… Yeah. Have fun and god Damnit maybe leave a review. Love you all~**


	2. Chapter 2

**Speak Easy, Little Italy Chapter 2**

Some time later, Alfred blinked as he came out of his trance, sitting up and immediately hunching over again to lay his head down on the table with a whimper. He had a knot in his back from his awkward positioning and it HURT! He sucked in a deep breath and leaned back until he heard the bones in his back crackle and pop rather violently.

Matthew often said it sounded like he was attempting to break his own back and succeeding. Thinking of his brother's face set in a scowl made him laugh a little. He would do it anyway, it helped with the pain. He looked at the clock and grinned. Just about three.

He looked over at Romano and grinned wider. The kid worked hard. He was glad he picked up such a gem. His feelings were _never wrong_~

Romano was a ball of nerves by the time three o' clock finally rolled around.

"Hey, Alfred. I'm... I'm going to duck out for a little."

He made his way to a back room and, after checking to make sure nothing was inside, settled on some burlap sacks of packaging sawdust.

He was exhausted by his own nerves. _'What am I thinking?'_ he wondered. He had been safe and unidentifiable as a gardener, but now he was working on a vase, stolen -- by him-- for a woman who might remember him, and tell his Grandfather. Not that it would be a problem, but if _Alfred _found out.

Damnit, he was brought back to that blond hair, those damn blue eyes, and that smile. It never fucking went away. That easy smile that reminded him of his brother but not. No doubt this man could take care of himself.

He fell into yet another bout of troubled sleep.

Alfred peeked in to the back room to see Romano snoring and smiled as he planned out the dinner. He decided that since it was Romano's first day, he was going to let the kid take the rest of the day off. In fact... The speakeasy could be closed for a night, and they could both do something. Maybe go see a game or visit with Matthew and his girl Yekaterina.

He moved the sign to closed and went up to the kitchen in back. After rummaging around in the cupboards, he put his findings on the counter. Jerked Meat, dried egg noodles, oregano, basil, thyme, jarred tomatoes, three young onions, a half-grown garlic, and some leafy potatoes.

He cut off the inedible bits and tossed them before starting. He smiled softly as he cooked, "Looks like we are having spaghetti for a meal..."

Even his naps, it seemed, were plagued by the worries that had been clinging to him on the boat ride over. Flashes of his thefts, comments by his Grandfather, his brother cooking pasta at all hours of the day...

Pasta.

He could smell it cooking and when he found Alfred again, he also found the source of the smell.

"What the hell are you doing, hmm?"

"AH!" Alfred fumbled and jumped, so immersed in cooking was he that he hadn't noticed Romano's approach. As a result, the sauce he had been making splashed... catching him on the forearm.

His mouth opened in surprise more than pain as he stared at the sauce, but he shrugged and licked it off. He glanced over at Romano and quirked an eyebrow. Silently mouthing 'PASTA' in an exaggerated motion before turning and eying the sauce critically.

"Salt... Definitely needs more salt... And - no... I already added a lot of tomatoes... Hey Italy~ What do _you _think?" He turned and held out the spoon he had been using to stir with, uncaring of the burn that left a red brand on his skin. "Needs more salt right? I can't figure out what I'm missing. I usually have it figured out by now..."

Romano wanted to say more tomatoes, you could _never_ have too many tomatoes. Romano dipped his finger in the sauce on the spoon and stuck the finger in his mouth.

"Do you have any cheese? You know, _Parmigiano_?" Ah, even thinking of it made him homesick.

"Ah..." Alfred thought about it. "Parma... It sounds familia-oh... Wait." His face fell. The only guy he knew was Heracles. And Heracles was still angry about the whole 'Alfred is a better restorer' thing... "No... Only the Karpusi family imports it... And Heracles hates me... Especially since Miss Helena is commissioning things from _me_ rather than her own son." He said matter-of-factly, as though such a thing as his personal enemies was a widely known thing.

He grimaced at the thought and returned to stirring the sauce. He felt kinda bad that he had forgotten such a major part of the meal, but there was nothing he could really do about it now... "Sorry Romano..."

Romano froze when Alfred mentioned Heracles. _He_ was here too? Romano had to control himself, keep himself from cussing and screaming at how stupid his luck was. One guy, and all of a sudden everything was in the crapper. He thought to himself about going back to gardening, but everything sounded like shit to him.

"I-it's fine. I'll live."

_'I hope.'_

"Ah!" Alfred snapped his fingers as inspiration struck. He _knew_ he was forgetting something~ "I don't have that parma-whatever, but I got a big hunk of _Pecorino Romano_~ It's a lot cheaper and tastes way better~ Can you go get it for me? It's over in the basement. You have to go back into the shop. The doors are in the floor of that room you were sleeping in. The pantry is next to the wine racks by one of the distillers. I think I might have a few reds left in the rack if you want to pop a cork."

Romano stared at Alfred for a second, completely dumbfounded. Alfred could remember the name of a cheese, one that had his _name in it _for Christ's sake, but he couldn't call _Romano _by his proper name?

"You are an idiot. Just so you know." And he turned away to the cellar.

Alfred smiled blankly, confused by the non sequitur, but shrugged and returned to the sauce. It smelled divine. Alfred heard his stomach rumble an grinned. Oh it was the bee knees having someone in the house again.

Romano found the cheese buried under bags and turned then to the wine rack. A bottle from the West caught his eye. Picking it up, he trudged back up the stairs, tired and wondering how he was going to handle the next day...

Alfred heard Romano coming up from the cellar and moved the sauce off the stove, turning the flame down to just the pilot light. He added some olive oil to the pasta, to keep it from clumping, and served up two large bowls.

"You find anything Little Italy?" he asked cheerfully. His smile became strained as he looked at the bottle, but he turned and began hunting down the corkscrew. It was just a bottle of wine after all...

Romano took a seat at the table, not saying much. His head hurt from lack of sleep, his mind was racing from...well, _everything_ . He laid his head on the table.

"Fuckin' hungry."

Alfred laughed shortly as he continued to hunt down the elusive piece. He finally found it and walked over, carrying the bowls and corkscrew carefully. He dropped the bowls with care onto the table and scooted a bowl over to Romano, holding his hand out for the bottle of wine.

"Here you go," he said quietly, "eat up. Work's over for today, so we can go do something."

Romano silently ate, surprised that he didn't have more of an appetite. He looked at the wine and knew that it wouldn't be enough. He mumbled something about moonshine.

"I could open up the 'restaurant' if you like." Alfred added.

"You gotta open the place?"

"Hm?" Alfred blinked and shrugged, "Not really, but I don't like to drink the merchandise. I drink it... But I am not a happy drunk... And when I get too stressed... or drunk... I am not always myself..."

"I guess that's why I like to fix things. The stuff I fix is crazy... and so am I..." He looked down, playing with his food a bit as he waited to hear the ridicule... or worse, hate. He stood up abruptly and left the table.

"I'll get you some moonshine, Romano."

****

A little while later and the men were still drinking.

"You know, I know how you feel, in a way. My brother and I, we don't get along well, but I mean, well, you know? I'm his big brother, so everything offends me if I didn't do it or get it for him. I can't even be damn graceful about it. Damnit. This is why Grandfather likes him more."

"Hm..." Alfred nodded, grabbing hold of a glass of the moonshine and drinking it in one go, "At least you don't have to worry about something your brother did to get you in trouble. I'm the 'troubled one' that everyone blames when things go belly up. He's the wallflower who can do no wrong. He learned 'invisibility' from our grandfather, adoptive. It was something like getting people not to notice him by reining in his inner totem. I got 'Herculean strength', my totem was too powerful to be held back. Heh. Fat lot of good it does me, I should be able to punch a hole in a brick wall but I wasn't even able protect my own family... There's a saying somewhere, Roma... 'The road to hell is paved with good intentions'," Alfred sighed and poured another shot, lifting it and pressing the cool glass to his forehead. "I bet that's where we're headed eh? My Father was killed in Italy. A war between two Families. One German-Italian the other full Italian. He had a friend on the wrong side. My mother died of consumption a year later. Matthew and I are each others now."

"Well there was never anything special about me. That's why I got sent over here. And don't call me Roma, that's my Grandfather's nickname." His mind was getting fuzzy from the drink and he was starting to lean.

"Al, brothers are such a pain when they aren't, you know?"

"Sorry," He hated when he got liked this, all melancholy and depressive. But it was hard to smile all the time. Especially when it was he and not Matthew who was stuck holding on to the ways of their varied ancestors... "I guess we kinda understand each other huh?" He drained the glass again and looked at the way the light played on the curved surface. "both of us are the eldest and both of us are overshadowed by the success of the younger..." Alfred sighed.

"And I can't hate him for that..." Alfred looked over his shoulder, as though looking for something, and turned back, "no more than I can help wanting to be acknowledged like he is. You know, have people look at me with pride rather than disdain..."

Romano saw Al's downcast face and heard his lamentations. It really did suck to be overshadowed, even more when you were being over shadowed by your younger sibling.

If only he was sober enough to convey it. But now he was just hungry.

"Ya' know, this pasta... isn't too terrible." he took a large bite.

Alfred stared at him blankly for a moment, but a slow grin crept across his face at the back-handed complement. He chuckled and shook his head, taking a bite himself.

"Here I am being serious..." he said, a joking sort of anger in his tone, "And you want to talk about pasta of all things Italy~"

He laughed loudly, nearly hysterically, holding his stomach as he shook from the force of his laughter. He knew so many people who would have thought he had gone off the deep end if he had spoken so plainly to them, and Romano was only interested in the food. He didn't even notice when he started crying. Only that he couldn't stop laughing...

Romano stumbled up from his seat and lightly slapped Al's shoulder.

"You're a lunatic. But I get why. So..." he turned away, not quite drunk enough to be totally out of character. "don't worry about it."

He handed Al one of the napkins.

"What kind of man are you anyway?" he mumbled, mostly to himself.

Alfred hiccupped as Romano snapped him out of his little fit and gave a watery smile.

"Thanks Romano," he wiped his eyes and blew his nose. He hadn't intended to start crying but now that he had... He treaded a thin line. Anything could trigger another wave of tears. But when he heard the off-hand comment that questioned his masculinity, he chuckled.

"I dunno Italy, wanna find out?" Romano gave him a look and Alfred blinked, mentally replaying what he just said. A blush spread instantly and he began verbally backtracking, "I-I-I didn't mean it like that! I meant like friendship-wise! Friendship!"

Romano stared at Alfred. And then it caught up with him too.

"Y-you! Saying weird things like that! I see why you don't drink!" He had been trying to keep his composure but the alcohol succeeded in making a fool of him, and a blush took over his face.

"I-I'm going to get ready for bed!" He declared in a rather childish tone.

"W-wait!" Alfred panicked and stood up, tripping over his own feet and crashing to the ground. He quickly scrambled to his feet and followed after, still babbling apologies and trying to emphasize that he meant it in a strictly non-romantic way.

Romano huffed away, trying to cover his face with his hand. Alfred was really way to cute babbling like this. He had to get away, had to go and shower. _Now._

Alfred flinched back as Romano hid his face, and he felt his shoulders slump with despair. He nodded and stopped following.

"I'll see you in the morning for work!" Romano hollered down the hall.

"Sh-sure... S-see you later Romano..." He stood there for a moment before heading back to clean the kitchen. Something to keep him from doing something self-destructive in his anger at himself.

"Think next time Alfred. Ugh."

**Woo! Productiveness! I have it! … **_**Finally…**_** Chapter two, and certainly not yet the last. Ehh, your reviews, I want them. Give them too me. Now. **


	3. Chapter 3

**Speak Easy, Little Italy Chapter 3**

Romano thanked God for second story bathroom, so close to the water tank. Turning the handles of the faucet, he could almost hear the furnace start up; could almost hear the water flooding through the pipes, coming out, for a brief moment, rather cold, though it did nothing to help his new problem

'_Christ, fucking drink. Never… never again!'_

Though Romano already knew that that was not going to work out.

It kept replaying in his mind. The warm smile, the sunny disposition… How easily the other was moved to tears and _God no_! No! He wasn't thinking about light skin or blond hair. Not about blue eyes and the welcoming voice…

He wasn't doing it because he was _attracted _to him, to another man.

In the shower a small golden cross, his only valuable belonging, glinting wet in the shower.

'_God forgive me…'_

But he couldn't help imagine what the other looked like underneath his casual clothing, if that oh so lightly sun kissed appearance covered his entire body. His hand wrapped about his now aching member, lukewarm water running over himself. He braced himself against the wall gasping and panting softly, trying to make himself quiet as possible, ashamed of this strange lust. Romano bit his lip, wondering how the other's voice would sound were he to touch him _just so._

'_Useless, I really am useless.'_

"Ahh, Mmm!" Romano bit into his arm to muffle himself, pumping harder, just wanting it to be over with. He couldn't remember his last time, some when ago in Italy. He tried to remember, but any face he conjured up was shoved aside by the image of the tall, over-friendly bartender-antiques appraiser who opened his home to him.

From there his thoughts turned towards the warm feeling pooling in his stomach, the tingling chill that ran through the rest of his body. His toes curled into the unyielding tile of the shower floor as his hips bucked slightly into his hand. Romano let drop a low, groaning sigh and came into his hand, gasping. He shook slightly, partly from the pleasure, partly from the shame.

"H-hail M-Mary, full of grace…"

*****

Romano went to bed more tired than he could remember having had been in a long while. He couldn't believe what he had done, the things he had thought... '_Tomorrow is going to be shit_…' he thought, staring into the dark at the ceiling.

******

It was in the early hours that Alfred decided to actually go to bed, though in actuality it wasn't so much him deciding to sleep so much as because he passed out on top of the piece he had been working on. His soft snores filled the workroom as the gun ended up serving as a temporary pillow. On the up side, his kitchen had never looked so clean. _'And…' _his dozing mind thought, _'Once I wake up, the gun just needs a little cleaning.'_

******

Romano came down to the shop a bit after sunrise rubbing the sleep, or lack thereof, from his eyes. He had spent the night, as he had thought, tossing and turning. He saw Alfred dozing at his work bench and, his face suddenly catching a bright red, huffed and went back over to the vase he had been assigned. He looked through the papers to give himself the appearance of doing something when he noticed something that made his heart stop. The pick up date. It had been given a pick up date... and it was today.

Romano suddenly felt ill as he stared at the papers.

Alfred groaned, his eyes fluttering as he woke. His back was aching and his mouth was so dry it felt like he had been eating cotton. Definitely the closest thing he had to a hangover in quite some time.

He yawned and stretched again, his habit of back-popping making a repeat performance. He decided to pop his neck and fingers too, sending even more crackling noises out to fill the room. He looked up blearily and gave a sleepy smile to Romano.

"Mornin'." he croaked, before noticing the look on his face, "Somethin' wrong Romano?" Romano snapped out of his stupor rather harshly, his knee banging the table, rocking the objects on top. A few oaths passed under breath before he answered.

"This lady is coming back for her vase today, right? I'm gonna not be around if that's alright."

He hoped that the nervous tone in his voice wouldn't be picked up on. What was he supposed to tell Alfred, that a mob connection of his Grandfathers may be trying to probe his business? And even that was just a runaway suspicion, one that, given the individual thinking it, probably held no ground.

Alfred grunted an affirmative as he rubbed a hand over his face. He felt like he had been hit by a train or something. He licked his lips and stood up.

"Yeah. that's fine. I'm going to go freshen up. Half an hour tops and I'll be back," with that, he stumbled to the stairs, nearly tripping several times as he went up. He needed some coffee and a shower.

Romano made a double check to make sure that the sign on the store turned so that the "Open" faced him. He followed then after Alfred, and when he heard the running of water, went down to put on coffee. He went back to the shop after, planning his escape from the Miss.

Alfred was just about to step in the water when he realized something important. He had forgotten a towel. It was out of habit that he simply walked out to look for the towels in the linen closet.

He didn't have his glasses on, so he didn't really see much as he searched for his favorite towel. He leaned over to peer near-sightedly at the semi-neatly piled towels in search of the red white and blue star-patterned fabric.

As the coffee boiled, Romano grappled with his Faustus-like wish to die. He heard the water go off upstairs and decided that it really wasn't worth it. He went to the bathroom door and knocked.

"Hey you! Coffee is on. What kinda idiot falls asleep on his stuff like that anyway!" He huffed.

Alfred opened the door as he polished his glasses on the towel wrapped around his waist. Of course he had forgotten to pick up a change of clothes on his way in. No matter. He looked up in time to shut the door on the hand descending on the wood.

"The kind of idiot that doesn't know when he's tired," he grunted, reopening the door. "Where's the coffee?"

"It's down stairs and damnit put some clothes on!" Romano turned away from Alfred, face red and embarrassed.

"I'm going back to the kitchen! Come down when you're dressed, hmm!"

Alfred grunted as he brushed past Romano. Obscenely chipper he may be called... but only after he had drank his first cup or so of coffee. Until then, he was a cranky and intolerable guy. Usually he was up and already pumped full of caffeine by the time people woke up, so it was a rarely seen side.

"Be down in a minute." He said, slamming his bedroom door after him with a bang. Five minutes later, he was at the coffeepot, drinking the black liquid like it was the only thing keeping him from dying.

"You're an addict, you know that?" Romano huffed, a bit soured that Alfred had made no mention of him doing him the huge favor of making the coffee.

He was trying to find something to keep his mind off the vase, off the shop, off his crap life.

"Yep... Don't care, coffee," He replied curtly, working on his third... or fifth cup. He needed that coffee. He'd been drinking it for years and without it... Alfred was not a happy American. Once the caffeine kicked in though, he finally realized what he had done. His attitude did a complete 180° as he turned himself to Romano.

"I am SOOO Sorry Romano!" He wailed, tackling the man and hugging him tightly, "I can't believe you saw _that_! I was so mean and rude! Can you forgive me? I promise I'll make it up to you! I really don't mean what I say when I don't have my coffee. I just can't help it!"

"Also..." He let go and patted Romano on the back, a huge grin on his face, "That is the second best coffee I've ever had in my life! Only I could make a better cup!"

"Y-you're fuckin' crazy! And my coffee is way better!" Romano wailed indignantly, trying to wiggle out of Alfred's grasp though to no avail. "Yeah I can forgive you! Damn you're touchy!" He gave up trying to get away, and instead just waited until the American let go.

Alfred smiled happily as Romano complained. He wondered what the Italian would think if he found out Alfred was actually not a guy who liked physical contact all that much. Not that it mattered. He went back to the coffee and raised it to his lips, glancing at the clock as he did so.

He did a spit-take as he realized what time it was. Miss Helena was going to be here any second! And he hadn't even finished everything downstairs. He practically flew into the work room, unaware that he was still holding the cup, and began trying to get every thing set up one-handed.

Romano watched him, the knot in his stomach building. He still hadn't found a suitable place to run away to. He couldn't leave; he figured that he would run into the Miss or her son and spontaneously combust. He thought he would just hide in the back room or behind the stacks and wait for her to leave. His heart beat a little quicker when Al flipped the sign to read "Open".

He twitched as he watched Alfred flipping out over everything else.

"Could you calm the fuck down?!"

"Sorry sorry!" He replied distractedly, finally setting his cup down and taking things into both hands, "It's just that she wanted everything done just right, ya know? And I fell asleep working on my other thing even though I should have made sure her vase was all taken care of!"

"If you want you don't have to meet her just yet," he said, finally getting the papers in order, "but Herc is gonna poke around again I bet. He looks quiet if you see him walking down the street, but he's got a mean streak a mile wide in him, so watch yer back. Besides, she might be interested in meeting you~ She likes a lot of Italian stuff too. Either that or she never realized the slight differences between the two regions~" He grinned impishly.

Italy's heart jumped into his stomach and promptly stopped. Her son would come by?! He tried to contain his panic. Heracles did _not_ mess around. Romano had seen him do a nasty number on this one guy one time on the Turkish/Greek border... It's one of those kinds of things that haunts dreams.

The door rang as a woman walked in. One glance at the brown hair done up in curls and Romano was securely hidden. She spoke at length in Greek, flapping her hands to her words like an Italian. He knew by the agreeing look on Alfred's face that the man did not understand a single word she was saying. But Romano did.

"_My son, bless'd boy, oh he is so mad at you Mister American. He asks me why his own mama doesn't use his shop instead and I have to tell him"_... it went on and on and Romano knew that Heracles was one pissed off sonofagun.

He wished he could motion to Al, but what use would it do now? So he huddled deeper down into the plethora of nick-knacks and baubles.

Alfred kept a fixed grin on his face as she babbled away Greek, completely baffled as to what she was talking about. He just nodded and smiled until she seemed to have run out of gossip.

"Err... Okay?" That didn't seem to be the right answer, but he picked up the stuff and held it up, "E 'finito signora."

He didn't speak more Greek than the insults Heracles threw at him. So he used his rather basic knowledge of Italian (Spanish) to get his point across.

Romano had to resist slapping his forehead in disbelief at Alfred's pronunciation. He couldn't risk being heard and was relived to see the Miss pick up her vase, give it a brief once, twice, thrice over, hand over a stack of bills and leave.

"Arrivaderci~" Alfred's manically cheerful expression dropped as soon as she left and he moved to sit in a chair. He turned to Romano with a stricken expression. "Oh god I think her son wants to kill me..."

Romano did not dare to move until the door's bell had rung, at which he leapt up at Alfred.

"Chigi! You idiot! Do you even know what she just said?!" Romano huffed, his face turning red with irritation.

Alfred grinned halfheartedly but it was hidden by hands as he groaned and leaned back, "That guy has a vicious temper. He and this Turk are always harping each other and getting incarcerated for violence. Unfortunately, right now I'm even higher on his shit-list…!"

"Wait, no! You just _think_ her son wants to off ya? You're encroaching on his turf! Of course someone with Mafia connections---" His hands flew to his mouth.

"I-I gotta, err, go uh... do something! Chigi!" He ran back upstairs.

Alfred made to follow, but the sound of the door slamming open made him turn around. There in the doorway stood Heracles. He stalked forwards, holding his teak-wood crucifix like a baseball bat.

"_You stupid ass_!" he yelled, his normally hazy eyes blazing in rage as he swung, "_This is fucking stupid! My mother! My mother comes to you! I swear, this steps over lines!_"

"Damnit!" Alfred dodged and grabbed the end-piece. He held on tighter than a vice while Heracles unsuccessfully attempted to dislodge him, "Are you insane?! I have explosive chemicals here you moron! You set them off all of us are gonna die!"

Romano came back down to the shop when he heard the door nearly being broken off of it's hinges. He ran down to the shop just in time to see Heracles punch Alfred in the gut, effectively knocking him out. He stayed hidden. He already knew what was going to happen with Alfred. And he had to save him.

"_Wait, why the fuck do I have to save him? Ch-chigi!"_

Alfred groaned as he sank to the ground. Heracles grinned smugly as he reached down to smash the stunned American's head into the ground, but paused as his brain finally caught up to what he was saying.

"_What? All of us? Your brother may have left you this crap house when he left, but who would be stupid enough to stay with your dumb ass?"_ he growled, lifting Alfred up -with some difficulty- to sneer into his face. Seeing that his last hit had knocked the man unconscious, he dropped him and picked up his cross anew.

He spat and hoisted his cross over his shoulder, deciding to find Alfred's new room mate and inform him of just what kind of existence they would have with a guy who refused to align himself with any of the families in the area. For the businesses own "protection" of course.

If there was one thing that Romano knew how to do, it was how to make himself scarce. So why didn't he? How did he wind up doubling back for the gun that Alfred had fallen asleep on? And how did he come to be aiming at Heracles' back?

"Hey bastard! Put him down!"

Heracles blinked, recognizing that voice, and turned around. A snarky grin stretched his lips as he eyed the Italian boy holding a musket to him. Sure he was nervous, but he knew the kid was all bark and no bite.

"Well~ Look at what the cat dragged in~." he said softly, his eyes lowering back into their usual half-mast position. Even when holding a possibly loaded _gun, _he still didn't see Romano as a threat. "What are _you _doing here Lovino? Your Grandfather finally realize out how useless you were over there?" He tilted his head as his voice rang condescendingly.

"You shut the fuck up about my Grandfather you Greek bastard! And don't fucking call me that! I go by Romano! So, damnit, get it straight!"

He bared the gun, only slightly realizing how stupid he looked holding the ancient thing.

"Let him go or I'll fuckin' shoot you!"

"It's good to see you aren't hiding behind your Spanish _bodyguard _anymore Lovino~" Heracles laughed and leaned on his cross, still grinning. He held out his hands, showing that he had released Alfred before Romano had even spoken. "One might think you actually had a spine."

"By the way," he said, falsely thoughtful, "Where is he? Finally get tired of you? I wouldn't be surprised. Though that doesn't explain what you are doing here with _this_ moron. He _hates _the mafia. Luckily for him, he doesn't realize how close he is-..."

"Or maybe it's best for _you_ he doesn't know..." His grin was borderline leering as he continued, "Did he tell you whose family killed his father? I'll give you a hint~"

He leaned forwards further as he spoke.

"What's the name of Rome's most powerful Italian Family?"

"Shut up Bastard!"

Romano's face fell. _That _was the business that his Grandfather had taken off to?

Romano was shaking with anger at the accusation and punched Heracles in the face, his face flushed with anger.

"I said put him down!" He grabbed Alfred and dragged him off to the side of the room before Heracles could recover from the blow.

"Weak..." Heracles grunted, but feeling his jaw anyways as he stood up. He picked up his cross, which had fallen from his hands and turned to leave, no longer interested in tormenting the Italian, the man he was after not seeming quite worth the noise. "Whatever... See you around Lovino. I certainly hope my tongue doesn't slip around your new toy~"

With that last parting shot he yawned and sauntered out, looking for all the world like a man nearly asleep on his feet.

*******

Alfred groaned softly as he began to wake. His memory was a bit foggy from being tossed about, but it settled as a headache bloomed. He groaned again and slowly opened his eyes. The light was blinding, and he shut them with a pained whimper. '_Where is Romano...?'_

"H-hey!" Romano was fighting back a sob, but chastised himself. "H-hey, asshole! W-wake up!" He shook Alfred a bit.

"F've m'r m'n'ts bro..." Alfred groaned and rolled over, thinking it was just sleep and that his memory was just a really weird dream. It changed however, when he finally jolted awake, sitting up and latching onto Romano. He felt him carefully, searching to make sure he was okay.

"Romano, oh thank god, you're okay!" He hugged him tightly, tears of relief stinging his eyes, "With Heracles that mad he could have hurt you! Are you okay? Did he break anything? Are you hurt at all? I'm sorry I couldn't protect you better!"

"N-no... N-nothing got broken... And, get the fuck off of my lap."

Alfred blinked and looked down. He stared for a moment and looked back up.

"Ah..." He blushed hotly and got off, coughing into his hand and looking away in embarrassment, "S-sorry... I got a bit carried away…"

"Look, I'm... sorry you got into this. I think I should probably go find my own place though."

_My Grandfather killed your family and Heracles will kill us both..._

The things he wanted to say just piled up.

Alfred looked stricken, his head snapping to look at Romano with wide hurt blue eyes. He opened his mouth but closed it again, nodding miserably.

"If... If that's what you want..." he said softly, turning away, "I won't stop you... My door is always open to you Romano."

He left the room, flying up the stairs to his room. A place for him to lament his inability to keep people around him for any length of time.

Romano made to move to the door, but found that his feet were following after Alfred's own.

**OMG THIS IS A CLIFF HANGER FOR ME!!! I don't remember what was in the next chapter. Ahaha, so we get to find out together! (almost) Remember, nice people review!~ Bweh, I wonder if I hope no one is offended… Naw, if no on is offended… I can be sure I did something wrong!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Speak Easy, Little Italy Chapter 4**

_Excerpt from The Chicago Tribune _

_Your source for all things in the news, now. _

_July 20, 1910_

_Chicago, IL_

_Arthur Kirkland, Reporter, Chief Editor of The Chicago Tribune_

_The city lays still in its own ashes today as the sounds of gunfire slowly begins to fade from the streets. Looking around the city, it seems as though a small army passed through. Shop windows bear bullet holes and fires are still being attended to. There are few onlookers out this morning as police and special detectives survey the sight of what appears to be the scene that started a city wide firefight amongst members of "The Jones'", a crime syndicate that has long had an iron grip on the city, and The Family Roma of Italian fame. According to the investigators, the fight begin when gunshots were heard coming from the Wellstone house in Upper Chicago belonging to Mr. and Mrs. Jones, the heads of the Chicago based mob. The sound of gunshots, apparently, prompted the start of brutal attacks across the city with a total of 22 civilian casualties, and 354 dead mob members; "The Jones'" completely being wiped from our streets, 36 from The Family Roma. _

_From the reports gathered from the station, a hit was placed by the Italian mafia, looking to expand its influence to American shores. It is not quite certain who shot the first bullet, but it left the entire Jones enterprise ruined. The coroners are, as of yet, still removing bodies from the area and the crime scene investigators are still gathering evidence. Can it still be a crime when it was scum killing scum? _

_The head of "The Jones'" are being carried out now, the photographers descending like flies. There are as of yet no confirmed survivors from the turf war, though the twin sons of the Mr. and Mrs., ages 9 are, as of yet, still missing. _

_********_

_August 4, 1910_

"_Frattello… Do you thing Grandfather is alright?"_

"_Shut up Feliciano, of course he is."_

_********_

_August 7, 1910_

"_The bigger one wont sit still, and the other wont speak with anyone but him. Are you sure you want to keep them?"_

"_They have strong spirits, it would be a crime to leave them to die."_

_********_

_November 10, 1922_

"_I'm moving in with Yekaterina_. _You'll be alright without me, right?"_

"_Yeah Matt, no problem! Leave it to me!"_

_******_

_December 14, 1922_

" _My name is Heracles Karpusi, I have an 'offer' for you."_

_******_

_January 30, 1923_

"_I've chosen Feliciano to succeed me."_

"_Frattello I'm so sorry!"_

_******_

_April 26, 1923_

"_What the fuck old man!"_

"_It is for Feliciano's good. He can't have you influencing him anymore. I've already cleared out the area out there once, go take care of things, make a name for yourself."_

_******_

_May 3, 1923_

"_Ciao, Little Italy~"_

_******_

**Woooo. I love just listening to my Professor totally knock on Chinese children's toys and sing the praises of Swedish craftsmanship. It's like every freaking study she puts up is showing the Swedish as being the smartest people in the world. I love this. I'm going to have to do some additional studying to make up for writing during class… **


	5. Chapter 5

**Speak Easy, Little Italy Chapter 5**

"Hey Al! Wait!" He chased after the other man, though he did not know why. It was stupid, he thought, as well as quite possibly being dangerous.

Alfred ignored him, closing the door firmly, though not having the energy to take the key from his pocket. Instead he walked over to the bed and flopped down onto it, grabbing a pillow and hugging it tightly. He tried to brace himself against the treacherous tears that threatened to, but his shaking shoulders gave him away.

Romano had only gotten so far when he heard a door up the stairs slam shut. He cringed. What was he supposed to do? Just go up and take back what he had said? No, he knew that this was something that he couldn't do. He thought to walk up to the room he had been lent to gather the few objects he had. Romano wondered to himself just how things could have gotten so out of control in just a few days. But this was why his Grandfather had thrown him out here.

Romano stood in front of the door for a moment before opening it enough to just peek in.

"Alfred. Hey, uh..." What was he supposed to do now?

"I..." He stepped into the room, shutting the door and leaning against it.

"I..."

Alfred continued to remain silent, but the sudden stillness of his body indicated he was listening. He wanted to tell him to go away. To leave already...

But he wanted Romano to stay. He hated being alone. That was why he had invited a total stranger to live with him. He was easily made a lonely guy. Even among all the people he knew... He would still feel that loneliness. He pulled away from the pillow slightly.

"Spit it out or go away," he said softly, a single eye looking back at Romano dully, "I don't want pity or whatever you think you owe me. If you want to leave... Then don't let the door hit ya on the way out."

"Chi..." He wanted to turn around and leave. After what he had done for him!

_Yeah, and just what have I done for him?_

"Even if you are a coffee addict. It's just... Chigi!" He couldn't get the words out. How fond he had become of the other... They were trapped in his heart, where he kept everything else.

"Sorry?" Alfred blinked in confusion, sitting up to look at Romano. He held the pillow in front of himself like a child would cuddle their favorite stuffed toy and eyed him curiously. "You didn't do anything though..."

Alfred snorted at the coffee addict comment. Why deny what was true? He grinned gently and reached over, tossing the pillow away as he did, and pulled Romano into a tight hug.

"If you're worried about me getting over my head with that Greek, don't." He said, rubbing his cheek on the other's head gently, "He just got a lucky punch is all. I could have avoided it if I had tried. But I didn't want him to set off the nitroglycerin. Even a drop of that is extremely dangerous and we were right next to a half-full vial of it."

Romano, temporarily stunned by the proximity of the other, at first did not register what had been said.

"W-wait... we were what?"  
"Heracles and I were standing next to some nitroglycerin~" Alfred repeated cheerfully, "If I hadn't grabbed that cross he carries around, he might have set it off~ And all three of us would have died."

Romano leaned against the other, suddenly very tired.

_I almost killed us._

Alfred didn't say anything about the sudden need for contact. Instead he just let Romano lay there. It was kinda cute how the guy could fit in his arms so well, but he didn't say anything about that either. Instead he just hugged the little Italian closer and closed his eyes.

"Thanks fer stayin' Romano..." He mumbled. He yawned tiredly and fell over on his side, cuddling Romano like a teddy bear, "I really... I'm glad..."

Romano's face turned red as he fought the urge to wriggle out of Alfred's arms. He had to try to breath, but still he couldn't relax.

Alfred on the other hand, was perfectly content to have another body pressed up against his. It was like when he would listen to scary stories on the radio or read horror novels before bed and force Matthew to sleep with him to give Alfred a better chance to 'Protect' him from monsters. He smiled gently, just sitting there as he listened to another person's breathing in the still house.

He had missed this. The feeling of belonging. Even around his brother he hadn't really felt whole. Only around his grandfather and his mother. They had left him feeling serene and happy. Everyone else just stressed him out. Even his best friend was a guy who either wanted to kill him or kiss him even on the best of days.

Romano meanwhile, wrapped in unrelenting arms, soon found himself falling asleep. In his exhausted state, he couldn't resist a non to discreet sniff of Alfred's neck before falling completely unconscious.

Alfred stiffened as he heard the Italian sniff, worried he might start crying or something... But when no flood of tears was forthcoming, he relaxed. It felt nice to hold him like this. Alfred liked to cuddle and Romano made for a really good cuddle. He was just the right size and everything.

A hair brushed against his nose, making him wrinkle it and reach out to grab it. It was a long, curly strand of hair he noticed in confusion. He wondered why Romano just let it do what it wanted, but mentally shrugged and attempted to smooth it down. He wondered if it was anything like his cowlick. Probably not, but it would be funny if it was.

Even in his sleep, Romano felt _that hair_ being touched. He had no idea why it happened, but just having that hair brushed against got him bothered. Still asleep, his hands clenched even more tightly into Alfred's shirt. He pressed himself against Alfred, a dream seeding in his head.

Oh _this_ was interesting~ Alfred stopped smoothing it and started to fiddle with it, watching the Italian for more changes in expression. The reaction was so cool. Usually when his hair was manipulated he went all weak-kneed and red-faced and if it was stimulated enough, he needed a change of pants. In Romano's case it just made him a little clingy.

What a dream was developing. Romano, trapped in exhausted half-sleep was partly aware of - but wholly powerless against- the sounds that he was making. He drew himself closer to Alfred, hands clinging, a leg sleepily nudged over Alfred's. He pressed his face into Alfred's chest, his entire body growing hot.

Alfred stiffened as he realized that... Yes, that hair was just like his. He stopped fiddling it, but couldn't make himself let go. He felt his face turning red as he looked down at Romano. _Let go Alfred. Let go of that hair right now._ He swallowed. His hand moved, but instead of letting go like his rational mind was screaming... It stroked the hair, molding it gently.

Romano's body was battling between sleep and the pleasure that had begun to boil in him.

"A-Al..."

His foggy mind didn't tell him he said it out loud, nor did it let him know that he wasn't just imagining pressing his lips to Alfred's neck, or that his arms were winding around the other mans waist. He caught broken bits of it, but couldn't stop.

"Oh fuck..." Alfred dropped the hair like it was burning him and tensed up. He hadn't meant to do this. He just… He wasn't… He felt like banging his head on the wall. He was _not_ supposed to take advantage of his new roommate. He sat up…

And fell off the bed with a thud. He didn't look at Romano. Instead he hurried away, his words hanging in the air behind him.  
"I'm sorry Romano..."

Romano noticed nothing, not even registering the crash as Alfred fell from the mattress. His hands reached out again, grasping a pillow. He wrapped himself around it, the tension in his body fading as his exhaustion finally took over.

Alfred on the other hand... He was running his shower so cold he reckoned he could see his skin turning blue. Not right. He sat down and tried to clear his head. Romano was a guy. Alfred was a guy. That kind of thing was wrong. He grasped his iron-nail cross, the heavy metal a comforting weight.

"I can't… I don't like him like that. I won't take advantage. I'm not like that. I can overcome." He repeated the last sentence like a mantra. After being found by his grandfather he had sworn to never be like _them_. Never take advantage of someone. Never hurt people…

Romano didn't know, at first, how long he had been asleep, but when he woke and brought the clock close to his face, he saw that it was nearly three in the morning He had been woken by the sound of the shower, and he knew the water would be dead cold. He stumbled up and went to knock on the door. When he came into the hallway though, he was confused. He was on the wrong side for his room. Looking back he saw that he had woken from Alfred's bed, in Alfred's room.

He bit into his thumb and his face grew red as he wondered what the hell he was doing there. The sound of the water still running brought him back and he ran down the hall. He pounded on the door but heard no reply. He worried that Alfred had fallen, had passed out or worse, and so let himself into the washroom.

Alfred didn't look up. He didn't hear the door open. All he heard was the falling water and his own frantic words. He was shivering and his skin was turning blue from the cold. But he had been punished worse, been given the switch for lying, for being a thief and a braggart.

Cold was nothing. He hadn't even bothered to remove his clothes as he sat there, unaware of the fact the fabrics clung to him and his white cotton shirt had turned translucent except where it was hidden by his brown vest. He believed that only obedience to the bible could make him clean of his father's sins. But he was tempted… by that Italian.

"I _will_ overcome!" He rasped, grasping his hair in an attempt to banish the thoughts for good. It didn't work at all... He hugged his knees and lowered his head, "Fuck... I'm going to hell for this..."

Romano stood in the doorway mortified.

"A-Alfred! Damnit, what are you doing?"

Romano ran to the shower and turned off the water, pulling towel after towel down from the closet as he tried to dry Alfred. He was shivering badly when Romano managed to pull him out of the water.

Alfred looked up in surprise, only noticing Romano's arrival now. He didn't protest as he was dried off and dragged out of the tub, too lost in his own thoughts. He didn't want this. He wanted to be a devout Christian that obeyed the bible… But the bible said that what he wanted of Romano was a sin. He would have to tell him the truth about himself. Drive him away from his evil.

"Romano," His voice was flat as he spoke, looking him in the eye, "My full name is Alfred Fitzgerald Jones. I am the elder son of the dead leaders of the Jones Mafia."

"Y-yeah, I know."

"What? How?"

**Please, honorable readers… forgive me. I have been lax in my updates and in a few different things… But I have abandoned nothing! I am suffering from mild writers block and sever laziness… So I am still working on all of my other projects… just… Eeehhhh… **


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